


Teneo

by Ashstriferous



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 08:16:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19353055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashstriferous/pseuds/Ashstriferous
Summary: Drifter picks up a gift on a whim. Shin has mixed feelings on the matter. For Day 2 of ShinDrift Week.





	Teneo

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ashstriferous) for more yelling about these two.

Drifter bought it as a joke one day when he was lurking about in some back alley or another. It was an accident, Drifter (and Shin, by some extent) simply a victim of circumstance. He’d been followed for some time, tailed by a two figures dressed in far too much black to be considered well and truly inconspicuous. He’d had half a mind to turn back and teach them a lesson about proper stalking attire, but ultimately had decided against it. He’d only just been cleared to mill about the Tower, and isn’t particularly eager to go back to his shoddy little bungalow in the Derelict. 

Who could blame him for liking a hot shower from time to time?

Instead, he ducks into a nearest shop, doing his best to look as if it had all been part of the plan. He knows he’s stumbled into something good not by what he finds on the shelves, but by the wide-eyed he finds himself faced with the second he gets his bearings. It’s a titan, whose cheeks are already painted a deep, awoken blue. She ducks her head away the second she realizes that he’s staring back at her, burying her face in a selection of silks and laces in an array of colors. 

It takes Drifter only a second to figure out just what he’s gotten himself into.

Sex shops weren’t exactly a rarity in the Last City. Between Guardians with too much time on their hands and the mortal folk desperate to chase whatever thrills they could, stores appealing to the more illicit taste did rather well for themselves. Even Drifter, who saw little appeal in anything more than a bit of rope and some creativity, had to admit that the minds behind this particular shop knew what they were doing. With his only other two options being facing whoever was tailing him or talking to the shy titan who clearly hadn’t wanted to be seen here at all, Drifter had resigned himself to a little bit of perusing of his own.

He imagined that the Hive-esque ovipositors and “anatomically correct” Fallen dildos did it for _someone_.

Yet despite the artistry and technological marvels of the shop around him, it was nothing but a simple piece of leather that caught Drifter’s attention. By all means, it shouldn’t have stood out to him at all. Between the brightly colored studded things that seemed more ostentatious than practical, and ornate pieces that looked like they’d break before they got any use, the simple band was nothing to write home about. Nevertheless, Drifter swiped the collar off the post it rested on. 

He stalked to the front and shoved it onto the counter, barking a few short words at the exo manning the till. As the robot behind the counter takes their time scanning the item, and even more time counting out the glimmer Drifter shoves at them, he cast a look over his shoulder. He hadn’t heard anyone else enter, but he wouldn’t put it past the two cutrate bounty hunters following him to make a scene in a novelty shop. 

It’s only him and the titan, though, and she’s too busy fussing over two different slips. He can tell by the sizing and color alone that it’s not for her, which alone gives him an idea. He makes a note to come back later -- he already sees a color Shin would like.

* * *

Shin hadn’t taken the gift particularly well. Drifter didn’t think he would, which was why he’d waited a few weeks and one handjob later to even consider presenting it to him. He figured somewhere in the post-orgasmic bliss, Shin might have been too dazed to really argue with the concept.

The bullet that whizzes past Drifter’s ear tells him he was wrong, but at least not _dead_ wrong. Whether or not Shin had spared him intentionally, or was simply too rattled by the gesture to fire straight, Drifter couldn’t say. He’d take what he could get. 

“Why,” he barks, holding the collar out between them as if it were made of some sort of toxic material. He’d wrenched it off the second the cold leather had so much as touched his neck. Drifter had to give him credit. He was doing a good job of pretending like he hated it.

It was just a shame that the faint spark in his eyes gave him away. 

Grinning, Drifter leaned back against the railing behind him. He crossed one ankle over the other, looking like a proper city Guardian, he thought. He wasn’t fooling anyone, and he certainly wasn’t fooling _Shin_.

He knew he was walking on thin ice. Shin might have enjoyed the gift deep down, but he was still holding a gun in his hand. A smart man might have backed down and left the conversation for dead. A man that wanted to live might have gone belly up beneath the wrath of the Man with the Golden Gun, maybe even begged for forgiveness. 

But that wasn’t how Drifter’s gambits tended to work.

“Figured my ol’ attack dog needed to be on a tighter leash.” 

It doesn’t really surprise him when Shin pulls the trigger. Hell, he’s laughing so hard he barely feels the brief instance of pain that preceded his death. He’d been right, after all. If Shin hadn’t liked it, he would have left Drifter to burn.

* * *

The problem with a relationship like Shin and Drifter’s is that they rarely have time for each other. When they do, it’s usually made up of moments stolen away in dark shadows, and rarely do they get anything more off than their pants. 

Sometimes, they can barely manage that. 

It’s a particularly slow week when Shin transmats himself onto the Derelict. He’d pinged Drifter’s comms while he’d been in the middle of stringing his newest toy for Gambit. If he’d said something else in the message, Drifter didn’t see it. He’d simply told his Ghost to open up the line and gotten back to work. 

Usually, Shin’s all business when he visits the Derelict. Something is different this time, though. Business-like, certainly but in a far more fun way. It isn’t long until Drifter’s hoisted the man up onto the table and set to pulling off every piece of clothing he can get his hands on. 

It’s been long enough that he almost doesn’t recognize the leather beneath Shin’s scarf. Hell, it’s inconspicuous enough that Drifter barely recognizes what it _is_ , let alone why it should matter to him. Even when he figures it out, he has half a mind to ask who gave it to him. 

He’d put a bullet in their head for laying hands on what belonged to him.

The fire on Shin’s cheeks draws him back, though. Drifter’s brows draw together, and remain furrowed as the pieces slowly rearrange themselves in the back of his head. What gives it away is a sharp pinprick of pain directly between his eyes -- the same spot a bullet had pierced his skull a few weeks previously.

“Really?” There’s a note of amusement in Drifter’s voice, but it’s buried beneath something heated. Possessive.

Shin seems to like whatever he hears. He tilts his chin upward, flashing a smile that’s all teeth and pointed canines. It’s Drifter’s favorite smile, and one he’d found himself imagining just before Shin Malphur ripped his throat out. 

“Thought you said you wanted me on a tighter leash.” He lays back against the table, arching his neck. _Show-off_ , Drifter thinks, but he finds he’s enjoying the sight of black leather against the skin of Shin Malphur’s throat.

Thankfully, he doesn’t keep the hunter waiting long. His lips brush faintly over Shin’s, who responds with a whisper soft sigh. His whole body is already tense and his chest is flushed red. The air around them is already boiling, and it only gets hotter as Drifter drags his hand up Shin’s chest and lets it come to rest against the smooth column of Shin’s throat. 

Dimly, Drifter worries Shin might just combust when he hooks his fingers underneath the collar and yanks Shin upward. Then he realizes he wouldn’t so much mind it.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone down in flames for Shin.


End file.
